


To Dry Your Tears With

by snuberr



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, F/M, First Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:34:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28150215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snuberr/pseuds/snuberr
Summary: Anna had met already met a certain prince a long time ago.
Relationships: Anna/Hans (Disney)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	To Dry Your Tears With

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually a veeeery old request from way back, posted on FF in a compilation, but I decided to clean it up a bit and put it here. It deserves to be a standalone on its own despite how short it is. Also, crazy how many years it's been. I still love Hans/Anna with all my being and it makes my heart flutter to still see people give this pair love. 
> 
> (Also, I might also clean up "Wanted" as well. It's been years and my writing has gotten better or so I'd like to believe lmao). 
> 
> Anyway, the original prompt was of "Anna having met Hans when she was very young. Inspired by the fact that the first place Anna goes to when the gates are open is the docks."
> 
> Oh...and an angsty addendum goes with it.

When Anna is thirteen, she escapes the palace gates for the first time.

But in the bustle of Arendelle, she finds herself spending most of her freedom hiding from guards than actually enjoying it. Doing so, she stumbles several times, scraping her knees and ruining her dress. A pickpocket somehow manages to steal her little purse. By sunset, she is exhausted and goes to the pier to sit by the water, wiping at the tears in her eyes. As she sniffles, a voice calls, filled with concern and asking for her welfare. She looks up and finds the face of a young officer, older than her and devastatingly handsome. From his uniform, Anna can tell that he is from a foreign country, likely from one of the ships stopping over to resupply.

He settles one knee down and takes a handkerchief from his pocket and presses it into her hands, the warmth seeping from his gloves. He offers her a smile as one gloved hand reaches out to tuck away loose strands of hair behind her ear. He tells her that she should not be crying. That it should be him, because he will be sailing away for a long time, encountering many dangers—and not all coming from the water.

 _So_ , he asks for a favor, _I want to see you smile._

That way, he says, whenever he feels down, he will think back on this day and find the resolve to keep fighting.

Shyly, Anna gives in to his request and the officer happily tells her she's the most beautiful girl in the world.

And Anna's heart becomes so full, she feels she will burst at the seams.

Sadly, he has to go. He lets her keep the handkerchief but she has to promise him that she will always keep smiling.

Anna agrees to his terms, and wrings out a promise from him as well, to be always safe.

He laughs and crosses his heart.

_On my honor, my lady._

She never got his name.

But once she is behind locked gates again—this time impossible to escape from—the memory of the encounter never fails to put a smile on her face.

o

o

o

Hans is not surprised to find Anna standing on the other side of his cell. He knows for a fact that anger is not something so easily satisfied, not with just a mere punch. Words like poisoned darts need to be thrown as well, to find their mark on the target. Hans knows this, from the relentless teachings of twelve older brothers.

So, he waits.

He props himself up against the cold wall, his arms crossed, waiting for the insults and damnation to be hurled.

His gaze slips past the bars, mouth a thin line.

 _Well Princess_ , he wants to say, _go ahead and take your shot._

He does not expect Anna to start crying.

 _No!_ She screams, so loudly that it should have summoned the guards. _No! You killed him! He was mine and you destroyed him!_

Her accusations did not make sense.

Hans pushes away from the wall, practically throwing himself at the bars, fighting to save what little tatters remained on his dignity.

 _I don't know what games you're playing, Princess_ , he snarls viciously, _but if you're planning to incriminate someone else's crime onto me, so help me—_

She lunges at him, her thin arms falling between the bars. Hans easily subdues her, his hands coiling tightly around her wrists at the sides of his head.

Something light flutters down his back. Hans secures both her hands into his left as he shifts his focus to the fallen object. He only has to bend slightly to pick it up.

A handkerchief.

The white had aged, the folded creases visible, but the red embroidery was unfrayed and bright red.

_H.W._

_Hans Westergård.  
_


End file.
